A Light Shining in Darkness
by Church1alpha
Summary: Post-DH, follows cannon except for epilogue. Harry and Hermione try to sort out their feelings for each other, but they may not have much time to choose.
1. Chapter 1-The Aftermath

The war had been long and bloody, but it was finally over. Many good men and women had died valiantly defending Hogwarts and the Wizarding World, and in the end they had been victorious. Voldemort was vanquished, but all was not well for Harry Potter.

Harry was sitting in the Great Hall, which still looked a little the worse for wear. The war had ended only the month before, and he had decided to stay at Hogwarts to help with the reparations. Even with the teachers working full time to restore the castle to its former glory there was a lot to do, but the work was progressing slowly but surely. This wasn't the only reason Harry was still at Hogwarts, though. He also needed to sort his feelings out. One of his main reasons for fighting was to protect Ginny, but after a short period of dating, she broke up with him. They had spent so long apart that the fantasy outweighed the reality, and though it was amiable, Harry felt hurt. He also debated his feelings for a certain brown-haired witch, with whom he'd shared a dance. Said witch was currently standing next to him, and she looked worried.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked her.

"Harry," Hermione asked him in return, "Are you okay?"

"Why do you ask, 'Mione?"

"Ever since the end of the war, you've seemed... off. Moodier. You've barely spoken to Ron or me in the last two weeks, and Mrs. Weasley says you've turned down three invitations to the Burrow. What's wrong?" After asking the question, she wished she could take it back. His expression scared her. He didn't look angry, he looked... haunted.

"Wrong?" he asked, and his tone was like Atlas, the voice of someone just barely holding the world on his shoulders. "Wrong? Hermione, where do I start? In the last year, I died, killed Voldemort, and got a lot of other good people killed or almost killed. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Moody, Dobby... They died. For or because of me. So many of the ones I care about... Gone. And even the survivors have scars, not least me."

"Harry, they, we, chose to fight, chose to risk death, not for you, but for the chance you offered. We fought knowing that even if we died, you would keep fighting, to stop Voldemort. You would carry on. And you did. It's over."

"I know, but..."

"You feel guilty. You think it was your fault."

"It was for and because of me. My mistakes. My responsibility. And the people who lived, who lost others... Molly, Arthur, George, Ron... How could they not blame me? It was my fault."

Hermione nodded to herself. When Harry had stopped interacting with the Weasleys, they had suspected he felt guilty, but none of them ever imagined the extent of the regret he clearly felt.

"Harry, nobody blames you but yourself. We're worried about you. I- we- don't want to see you this way. You're shutting yourself off from us. You need to come back."

"And if other people I care about die? Hermione, when I thought you were going to be killed, when Bellatrix was torturing you, I... I just... I wouldn't be able to take it. If you had died, I don't know how I would have carried on."

"I'm here. I'm okay." She tried to comfort him, but at the same time, she couldn't help but read into his last statement. Did he mean...? She decided to take the chance.

"But you almost weren't. What if-" He broke off as Hermione closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. He stumbled backwards, too shocked to reciprocate. He had been friends with Hermione for the best part of a decade, he loved her like a sister (but only as a sister, a small part of his mind asked), but what about Ron...?

Before he had a chance to respond, there was a small crack, and as Harry and Hermione jumped backwards and raised their wands, a house elf appeared.

"Kreacher?" Harry asked. "Why have you come here?"

"Master," the wizened elf croaked, "Danger! The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has been invaded! Master must come quickly!"

"Hermione, I-" he began, but she had already turned away from him.

"Go," she said, her voice flat and dull. "When you want to talk, I'll be at the Burrow." She immediately disapparated, but before she was gone, Harry thought he heard a muffled sob.

Feeling helpless and regretful, though not fully understanding why, Harry followed the house elf to his home.

* * *

It was another month before he saw Hermione again. After dealing with the "invaders" (two boggarts and the most confused tramp Harry had ever met, who felt a lot better after a nice cup of tea), an owl had arrived from the Ministry. Harry had been offered the post of an Auror, but he just didn't want to fight anymore. He regretfully turned down the post, though he was informed it would remain open if ever he wanted it. Then he had to get 12 Grimmauld Place back into a state of habitability. The work gave him a lot of time to think and sort out his emotions. He finally realized how he felt about Hermione, and resolved to tell her he loved her and ask her out immediately. So he paid his first visit to the Burrow since the end of the war, his heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

"Harry!" Molly exclaimed, then hugged him tightly. "So lovely to see you again! We've been worried sick about you. Don't ever stay away like this again. Honestly, cutting your friends off like that. Percy thought you'd been put under the imperius curse, or had been replaced with a polyjuice duplicate."

"Umph... Mrs. Weasley?" Harry managed to groan out, "Hugging... a little... tight..."

"Sorry, dear," she said, finally releasing him. "Anyway, Ginny's upstairs... Whatever happened between the two of you? You were such a nice couple." Apparently he looked less than enthusiastic at this statement, because she quickly said, "Not that there's anything wrong with the two of you having broken up, that's entirely your business, I was just making an observation. Sorry, dear."

"It's all right, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, though he still felt upset at the memory. "Is Hermione here?"

"Ron and Hermione are in the dining room. Apparently they have something to tell us, but Ron said he wanted you to be here. Maybe now they'll tell us what's so important."

Harry was only half listening, still lost in thought, but a few words did manage to make their way into his consciousness: "Hermione" and "dining room." He walked in, and the buzz of conversation stopped as everyone looked at him.

"Hello, guys," he said. "How've you been?"

"Blimey, Harry," said George, "Haven't seen you out in ages. You look bloody awful, mate. When's the last time you had a shave?"

"Nice to see you too, George," he grinned. "I don't know how long I'll be able to stay, but I figured it would be a good idea to see you lot again. Apparently, some people," he shot a glare at Percy, who had the decency to look abashed (though Ginny's uncontrollable giggling ruined the effect a bit), "Some people who I will not be naming have been spreading rumors about me."

"Oh, give it a rest, Harry," Ron interjected. "I'm glad you're here, it means I can finally do this." Harry had eyes only for Hermione, who was blushing. She looked absolutely lovely, and he knew he had to tell her how he felt, was about to, when his eyes were drawn to her hand. Her hand, and specifically the ring Ron was placing on it. And as Harry watched, Ron announced, "Hermione and I have known each other for years, and we've been dating for a while. I've asked her to marry me, and she's accepted."

Then everything went black.

* * *

The next thing Harry knew, he was standing alone in a forest, his hands aching. He vaguely remembered making his excuses to the Weasleys, pleading an upset stomach, which wasn't exactly a lie- he did feel sick. Just as he had finally realized he loved Hermione, she got engaged to his best friend. He wanted them to be happy, of course he did, but shouldn't his happiness matter too? He started to become angry once again, but a sharp twinge from his hands drove all feelings of rage from his mind. Looking down at them, he realized his knuckles were scraped and bloody, and- were fingers supposed to bend that way? Almost certainly not. What could he have done to mangle his hands so badly? Then he looked at his surroundings properly for the first time.

He was standing in the forest of Dean, in the spot he and Hermione had come after Ron left, but it looked different than the last time he had seen it. He had previously been struck by its stark beauty, the way there were no signs of any humans having come here in years. But while it had been a while since he'd seen it, he was pretty sure it hadn't been on fire before. Some of the trees were now just blackened stumps, and a few of the ones that were still standing had areas that looked a bit... dented. He gazed at the desolated sections of landscape, then back to his hands (one of which was holding his wand), and realized exactly how enraged he had felt.

After healing his hands and extinguishing the remaining flames Harry was about to apparate back to the Weasley's, but he realized he couldn't face Ron yet, and especially not deal with seeing Hermione. He decided to stay where he was. He wasn't going to be expected back anywhere for a week or two, nobody would notice if he was missing for a while, and the forest was peaceful. It was one of the last places he could remember being alone with Hermione, and he noticed he still had her beaded bag with the tent and supplies in it. He'd go camping for a while, just to clear his head. It wouldn't be for long.

A month later, he was still there. By now his days had become routine: wake up, check the wards protecting the tent, start a fire, and cook breakfast. Then chop wood for a few hours. He didn't know any spells that could do that, but in the depths of the bag he found a hatchet. He enjoyed the physical labor; it was a pretty good workout, but more importantly it stopped him thinking for a while, something he desperately craved. Then he would eat lunch and walk through the forest. At first, Harry would remember past events as he walked, but as time went on he found he thought less about himself and his "former" life, and more about his surroundings. He grew to know and love the positions of the trees, rocks, and pools of rainwater. After returning home (for he had begun thinking of the tent as "home"), he would eat and go to bed. He found the life peaceful, enjoyed simply existing rather than fighting, and enjoyed the solitude, away from those he couldn't bear to deal with right now. But it wasn't to last for much longer.

One day upon returning to his tent after his walk, he saw a familiar, bushy-haired figure standing by the campfire. When Hermione turned and saw him, he noticed her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying.

"Harry?" she asked. "Is that you? How long have you been here?"

"It's me, Hermione. I've been out here a while. I don't know exactly how long; I haven't been keeping track of the days. Some time after that night at the Burrow. But the real question is, what are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you. For heaven's sake, Harry, we thought you had died. We were so worried about you. You walked out, and Kreacher said you hadn't been back to Grimmauld place. We've been looking for you for weeks, everywhere you've been recently. Minerva and the other teachers scoured Hogwarts looking for you; even Peeves helped search! I finally remembered this place, and realized that you might be here. What on earth have you been doing?"

"Just... living, I guess. Taking it day by day."

"Yes, but why here of all places?"

Harry gazed at her in shock. One of his most treasured memories, the time they danced together, the time he started to realize his feelings ( _the time without Ron_ , he thought), and she didn't remember?

"I have some more or less happy memories from here. The time we-"

"The time we danced together, yes. I remember. Honestly, Harry. The most out of the way place, and you had to come here? I'm just so relieved you're okay."

Knowing the chance would never come again, Harry asked, "Hermione, would you like to... Could we... dance again?"

Hermione looked at him sadly. "Harry, I- I don't think that would be a good idea. Please don't ask me."

He was shocked at the change in her attitude. The formerly bright and cheerful woman he had realized he loved not two months before seemed so worn out and tired. He had to know, so mustering up his courage, Harry asked her, "Hermione, are you... happy?"

"I've been worried sick, you idiot!" she exclaimed with anger, and Harry was glad to see some of the fire return to her eyes. "Don't you ever go off alone like this again! You're coming back to the Burrow with me right now, or at least as soon as you've packed. No! No arguments, just be glad that I found you before Molly did. She's furious. And you're to stay there for at least two weeks."

Packing took a surprisingly short amount of time, and within an hour Harry and Hermione were standing in a perfectly clean area with only a log pile showing that someone had lived here. As he took Hermione's hand and they disapparated, he realized that she hadn't really answered his question.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Part 2 should be along soon, please review so I know what to improve, and a special thanks to my beta reader, The Prince's Mage.**

 **-Church1alpha**


	2. Chapter 2-The Burrow

The first thing he saw upon entering the Burrow was Molly's disapproving expression. The first thing he felt upon entering the Burrow was Molly's hand, slapping him across the cheek. Then she gave him a tearful hug, more relieved than angry.

Ginny threw herself at him as well, hugging him almost as tightly as her mother had. A year ago, Harry would have been ecstatic at receiving such a hug, but now all he could think about was the ring on Hermione's finger. A small part of him was pleased to see that there wasn't a wedding band yet. _Shush_ , he told himself, trying to squash the thought. _They're my best friends. Their happiness should be enough for me._

Ron showed up, punched him in the shoulder, called him a git, then pulled him into a hug and asked him to be his best man at the upcoming wedding. Harry agreed, but found himself furious with Ron. _How dare he? How_ _dare_ _he? He abandoned us, left us, betrayed us, and she chooses him over me?_ _Him_ _?_

Pleading tiredness (this was beginning to become a pattern for him), Harry went upstairs to find somewhere to sleep. The attic had been cleaned, and the ghoul had been moved out, so Harry found a quiet corner and dozed off.

Ginny woke him up the next morning with a plate of pancakes and some gossip. Apparently shortly after Hermione had left him at Grimmauld place all those weeks ago, she had appeared back at the Burrow, red-eyed and muttering about "that bloody idiot, thinking he's so bloody special." A few days later, Ron asked her out, and she accepted. Then he proposed, and after taking some time to think about it, she accepted the proposal as well. The wedding hadn't been supposed to take place too long after that, but Harry's vanishing act postponed any planning, a fact which he was perversely pleased to hear. He was also pleased to hear that Hermione and Ron were still sleeping in separate bedrooms. Ginny also mentioned that she'd been seeing Neville around a lot lately, and while she'd tried to wait for Harry, it was clear that he was no longer interested, and, well, one thing had led to another, and it was their fourth date that night, and did Harry mind?

Harry did not mind, and he assured her that it was perfectly okay and he was glad she was happy. He was still dwelling upon the latest developments between Ron, Hermione, and himself, and while that hated part of himself was still filled with glee, he tried to stop it whenever it rose. The happiness of his friends was the most important thing, and his personal feelings weren't important. Ron and Hermione were together, were happy together, and that was all there was to it.

When he went downstairs, he saw Ron in an animated conversation with Percy. As he got closer, he could hear what they were saying.

"Ron, you git, I don't care if you are the bloody groom, there's no way we're letting you choose the music. Your taste's rubbish; Hermione's choosing it."

"Percy, you prat, she's already said she doesn't care. I get to choose it."

"She doesn't care? And you don't think there's something off about that? Ron, brides are supposed to be moody but excited. Well, I suppose I must admit that I don't know about any of that for sure, but the point is that Hermione not caring about her big day is a bad sign. I'm terrible with people, and I know that. You're sure you didn't rush into this? You did only date for a month, and this is a big step."

Harry rejoiced after hearing this, but his hopes were dashed after hearing Ron's next words.

"I'm sure, Percy. Hermione and I have known each other for years. We're happy. Everything is fine."

Harry heard this, but before he had time to wonder exactly who Ron was trying to convince, Ginny came skipping down the steps.

"I'm going to meet Neville now, Dad," she called out in a singsong voice. Harry looked at her in shock. She was wearing very short shorts and a crop top tank top, not exactly the most appropriate wizarding attire. She was also wearing a lot of makeup, including very dark eye shadow.

"Not like that, you're not, young lady," Arthur replied. "You go right back upstairs, change, and wash some of that makeup off. Now, or you'll be late for Neville."

"Fine, dad," she huffed, but before walking back upstairs, she winked at Harry and gestured for him to follow her.

After reaching the top of the stairs, Ginny stopped him and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Honestly, I dislike these clothes, but he so enjoys feeling important. And this much makeup is almost impossible for me to deal with. But last time I tried to go with just a bit of makeup, and some normal clothes, he still told me to go up and change. I've found out that if I go overboard the first time, I can wear what I want."

Looking at how pleased and content she seemed, he asked her, "Ginny? Are you happy?"

"Honestly, Harry, I am. I've felt more relaxed that I ever have before, even when we were dating. I look back on that, and I don't know how much of it was my earlier infatuation with you and how much of it were my adult feelings. But I still care about you, and you're clearly depressed about something. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

Despite himself, Harry found himself telling Ginny everything, about his feelings for Hermione, his worries that he was putting himself before his friends. Ginny listened to him, then said, "Harry, you deserve to be happy too. You need to tell Hermione how you feel. If you don't, you'll regret it forever."

"But she and Ron are happy together. They love each other... Right?" he asked her.

"Why don't you ask them yourself? I need to go, can't keep Neville waiting. But there's a talk you need to have. The wedding is only a week away, and you owe it to them not to keep back anything that could hurt your relationship later on. Good luck."

"Ginny, thank you. So much. I'll try."

"My pleasure. Now, could I borrow your Firebolt? I think I'm going to be late."

* * *

Although Harry knew he had to listen to Ginny's advice and tell Hermione how he felt, he found himself growing more and more nervous. Time was running out, and he couldn't hold back much longer or an already awkward conversational minefield would become almost impossible to navigate. Telling his best friend's fiancee that he loved her was one (worrying) matter; telling his best friend's wife would ruin everything. Eventually the day before the wedding came, and Harry realized that it was now or never. He steeled his resolve, and approached Hermione's room. He was almost to the door when he heard something that made him pause; the sound of voices came through the crack between the door and the door frame. Peeking his head around the side of the door, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting on opposite sides of the bed. Ron looked very pleased, while Hermione looked equal parts uncomfortable and stressed. Harry was panicked. Were they about to...? That would be the point he would know that Hermione was truly happy with Ron.

"Ron," Hermione said, "I have something to tell you."

This was better than he was expecting. Maybe she'd say she wasn't ready to be that physical yet. Harry didn't have a problem with them having had, ah, relations, as it were; it didn't make a difference in how he felt for her and how much he wanted to be with her. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, might have a different point of view.

"What is it, Hermione? A problem with your dress? You'll look great, love, you always do."

Harry leaned closer to the door to hear, but he was almost floored with the shock of what he heard next.

"Ron, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can go through with this."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Part 3 should be along more quickly than the last one; I just need to edit it a bit more. Thanks for reading and for sticking with it!**

 **-Church1alpha**


	3. Chapter 3-Confessions

Hermione looked at Ron sadly. "I'm sorry, it's just not working out. I can't be with you. I thought I could, thought I could make both of us happy, but I can't. I don't love you, Ron. I don't think I ever really did, not that way."

"Then why? Why say you'd marry me, then break it off the night before the wedding? The night before, Hermione. You couldn't have mentioned it sooner? What changed?"

"It's just not working out. It doesn't feel right anymore."

"Bullshit, it doesn't. Who is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who have you been shagging? Is it Dean? That bastard Seamus? Hermione, who is it?"

"Nobody, Ron. I'm not interested in anyone right now. I just don't feel attracted to you anymore."

Too late, Harry was aware of the sound of footsteps behind him, and he heard George's voice say, uncomfortably loudly, "Harry? What's going on?"

"Oh, hey, George," he replied in as nonchalant a manner as he was able to manage. "Nothing much, just on my way back to the attic. How's work going?"

"...Fine, Harry." George still seemed suspicious. "Though I do need your help with testing some of my new products. Can I show you?"

"Sure, George."

They walked to George's room, and as they left the hall Harry heard the sound of a door closing. Upon arriving at their destination, George closed his door, sat down, and simply said, "Explain."

"George, whatever do you... mean... This isn't working, is it? No, thought not. Okay, first tell me what it looks like to you."

"Well, Harry, it looks to me like you're either under the imperius curse and spying on your friends, or you're stalking them, on the night before their wedding. Can you explain why? If you ruin this for them for no reason, I swear, Harry, I will hex you into next week. But I'm worried. You know Hermione better than anyone. Tell me, is she happy?"

"George, I honestly don't know. And do I have to explain everything, here and now?"

"Yes," he pointed his wand at Harry, "Talk."

"George, I... I'm in love with Hermione."

"How long have you known?"

"A few months. Since not long after the Battle."

George's response took Harry by surprise. "Damn," he swore loudly, then pulled a small sack of galleons out of his pocket and knocked on the closet door. "Ginn, you hear that?"

The redhead stepped out of the closed, a huge grin on her face. "Yep. Pay up, brother dear," she said to George. He scowled and handed over the pouch without a word. "George and I have had a bet doing since you and I broke up about how long it would take you to realize. George said it wouldn't be until after the wedding, but I was hopeful, especially after the advice I gave you."

"Wait, you told him to go for it? That's cheating!"

"No, George, that's strategy. It's why I beat you at chess."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry told her, partly to stop the bickering. "How did you know that long ago?"

"You didn't have the same feelings you had. When you got back from the forest, you were either on your own or with Hermione. She's good for you."

George interjected, "But whatever you do, do it quickly- I think she's about to marry Ron."

"Not according to what I heard outside her room/"

"Shame, Harry. Listening at doors," George chastised, but the sting was lessened by his knowing smirk and his following words. "Fred would be so proud right now."

"George, I... I wish it hadn't happened. It shouldn't have been this way."

"You're right, Harry, but it was. I understand. If it helps, I forgive you. Fred chose to fight, for all of us. I don't blame you, Harry."

"Thank you, George. Thank you so much."

Harry began to tear up, but Ginny quickly said, "Are you two finished being wishy-washy? Because we've got a wedding to sabotage."

"Sabotage, Ginny? Really?"

"Yeah, Harry. I loved you for a while; at least, I think I did. But you love Hermione. You're like a brother to me, and I want you to be happy."

"But Ron's really your brother."

"Yeah, but that brings me to my next point, which is that Hermione is like a sister to me. I want her to be happy too, and she won't be with Ron."

"Honestly, Harry," George interrupted, "We were super surprised when she said yes. She's going to regret marrying Ron, and if they divorce, mum will be pissed. If we can get to her quickly enough, we could hex her and explain-"

"George, I just heard her and Ron talking. I think she's going to break it off. He sounded furious."

Ginny seemed more amused than anything. "Aw, is ickle Ronniekins not getting something he wanted? What a shame. Harry, the bastard's cocky enough as it is. He cares about Hermione, but not as much as you do. I think he's jealous of you, and I think he wanted her partially because he was scared she'd choose you and the three of you wouldn't be friends."

Harry was annoyed by how childish Ron's actions seemed, but he decided to forgive and forget. If the wedding was canceled, that is. If not, there'd be hell to pay.

"Hey, Ginn, how's Neville been?"

Ginny blushed bright pink, and George guffawed, "Nev broke up with Ginny. Who'd have thought it? A certain blond-haired young woman caught his eye."

"Luna?" Harry asked in astonishment. "You're best friend? He left you like that?"

"Harry, it's fine, really. I've found someone else."

"Who?" Now George was the astonished one. "If it's that git Seamus, I swear, Ginn..."

Harry burst out laughing. "This is the second time tonight one of you Weasleys has accused Seamus of being in a relationship. What do you know that I don't?"

"You know Lavender Brown...?"

"No, seriously? You're joking."

"Yeah, I'm just messing with you. It was Katie Bell."

And on that note, Harry decided to go to bed.

* * *

He woke up to shouting. Apparently Ron told Mrs. Weasley what Hermione had said, expecting sympathy. By the shouting coming from downstairs, he had been mistaken.

" **-Bilious Weasley, how dare you accuse Hermione of such things. You know very well she hasn't been, as you put it, shagging on the side, and I am ashamed you would accuse her of such a thing.** We all tried to warn you you were moving too fast for the poor girl, and after all she's done for you- Oh, hello Harry dear, I think there're some eggs and bacon on the stove for you- **Don't you dare walk off, Ronald, you are going to apologize to Hermione right now.** "

Ron tried to give Hermione a withering glare, but burst into tears. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. I wanted you to love me so badly, but it wasn't ever me. I've behaved horribly towards you. Please forgive me; you and Harry are my best friends, and I'm happy for you both."

"What?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Hermione told me how she feels... about... you..." Ron turned to Hermione. "You haven't told him yet, have you?" Hermione shook her head. Before, she had looked angry; now, she looked furious. "Oops."

Hermione turned back to Harry and said, "What dear Ronald here," there was a yelp as she elbowed him hard in the side, "Just let slip was that I... Damn, this is so much harder than I was expecting... I, uh..."

Harry was surprised. Hermione Granger, tongue-tied? He stepped forwards and kissed her. They felt as though the world was drifting away, as though nothing mattered but the feeling of her in his arms, her hands in his hair.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought Harry and Hermione back to awareness of the kitchen. They pulled away from each other, their faces bright red, but their embarrassment was nothing compared to that evident on the Weasley's faces. Hermione turned to Ron and began, "Ron, I-"

"'Mione, it's okay," he told her gently. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. Are you happy?"

She nodded. "Then I'm happy for you. Now, I'm going out for a few hours, to clear my head. This is a lot for me to take in, and I'm not going to say I'm okay, but I will be. I'd like to hope that we can stay friends when I return."

"Ron," Harry told him, "Thank you."

Ron's eyes began to fill with tears, and he turned away before the others could see. "Yeah, well," he sighed, "It's been pretty obvious since fourth year that you both liked each other. It's always been the two of you. And you're my best friends. I can't lose you both. I'll be back in a while."

And with that, he opened the door and walked away.

* * *

 **AN: Next part should be up by Thursday. Thanks to everyone for sticking with it so far. And sorry if you thought Ron was OOC; I thought he should be upset, furious, but still want his friends to be happy.**

 **-Church1alpha**


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